Believe it or not, I actually not trying to demonstrate the ups and downs of losing weight. It just comes naturally to me. What can I say?
I have to blame at least part of it on my parents—once last weekend and again this weekend they've derailed my efforts to have a successful Monday-morning weigh-in. It's not that they don't mean well. They just bring some really good food to the table. And while their fit, trim bottoms have some level of discipline and healthy metabolisms, it appears that neither of those traits is hereditary.
(Sign two of dieting trouble: denial. When you start blaming other people for your overeating, you have a problem. Don't pass go. Don't collect $200. And don't, for the love of god, eat those cupcakes!)
My best weight has wiggled around 129 pounds. It momentarily dipped to 128 last week, but then the weekend happened. As usual, I have no problem doing the exercise. I have all the problem not eating when hosted and fed. It's time to start hiding on weekends. Or getting my jaw wired shut when leaving the house.
So, this week I start the Cleveland Fitness Bootcamp. Because I like gimmicks. And I get a discount for doing it. I'm eager to get my toosh kicked for the next month (blended with my Tracy Anderson Method). Please look forward to an excuse-laden post in two weeks about how I've failed again.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Time to be a loser.
It's going to take some time to shake the paranoia of broken bones on the run.
I had a slight breakthrough this weekend, however: one of the last workouts I did before Dr. T prescribed crutches was a skipping, galloping, trotting workout on the treadmill. It was lower impact than running and worked my cardio something fierce. But I remember how much I'd have to lift and support myself on one side because my leg would feel unstable (and painful!) with certain motions.
In retrospect, I know I had a neon sign hanging over my head, pointing to my leg and blinking "broken leg here." Ahh, yes, but denial shines such a blinding light.
Well, I tried the same workout on Saturday (with much caution). It took me a few minutes to gather the courage to make the first light, very low-impact hop, but I did. And it felt nothing like it did four months ago. Four months ago, my leg felt like it was wobbling beneath me, ready to keel over in all the wrong ways they won't show on television.
On Saturday, it just felt like a leg — the way legs were meant to feel.
That short treadmill session really helped me draw a line between "broken" feelings and "recovering" feelings.
It helped too when I was running on Sunday. I started to feel what I thought was a twinge in my right shin. "Aww, crap!" I thought. "I fractured my bleepin' leg again!" But when I slowed down and focused my attention on my lower legs, I could tell the very, very subtle feeling was occurring on both sides.
Could she have hurt both legs already, you wonder. No. I was wearing cropped tights and the elastic bottoms were squeezing ever so slightly over my shins. Not in a painful way. Just a gentle, butterfly-flaps-its-wings push or stretch against my skin. And I thought my legs were broken. Ugh.
One way I'm trying to combat future injury, however, is losing some of this post-crutch tub. I've been following the "Tracy Anderson Method" strengthening exercises for a few weeks. While that chick has all kinds of weird rumors swirling and some bad press, I have been supremely impressed by what this lady can do for your arms and butt in a relatively short time (if only I'd stuck with it this whole time, I'd be a killer babe right now!).
So, I've decided to be a little more dedicated and follow her 30-day plan to kick-start my lard-busting.
It's nothing gimmicky; it's just a plan of nutrition, strength and cardio to follow. And I know myself: I need a solidly outlined plan to follow. I also need to tell someone I'm following something so that I actually do it. Thanks for being that someone!
My objective: I'd like to get back to my healthy, preferred, pre-30th-birthday-pig weight of 120 pounds (yes, I never lost my 30th birthday pig-out week weight and then I hit the crutches... what a year to have my metabolism grind to a halt!).
I'm 133 today and will report each Monday how I've done with my goal of dropping one pound each week. Which means I should be down to my goal weight just in time for the holidays!
My complementary goal will be to learn how to eat like a human being and not like a famished boar. Here goes something!
I had a slight breakthrough this weekend, however: one of the last workouts I did before Dr. T prescribed crutches was a skipping, galloping, trotting workout on the treadmill. It was lower impact than running and worked my cardio something fierce. But I remember how much I'd have to lift and support myself on one side because my leg would feel unstable (and painful!) with certain motions.
In retrospect, I know I had a neon sign hanging over my head, pointing to my leg and blinking "broken leg here." Ahh, yes, but denial shines such a blinding light.
Well, I tried the same workout on Saturday (with much caution). It took me a few minutes to gather the courage to make the first light, very low-impact hop, but I did. And it felt nothing like it did four months ago. Four months ago, my leg felt like it was wobbling beneath me, ready to keel over in all the wrong ways they won't show on television.
On Saturday, it just felt like a leg — the way legs were meant to feel.
That short treadmill session really helped me draw a line between "broken" feelings and "recovering" feelings.
It helped too when I was running on Sunday. I started to feel what I thought was a twinge in my right shin. "Aww, crap!" I thought. "I fractured my bleepin' leg again!" But when I slowed down and focused my attention on my lower legs, I could tell the very, very subtle feeling was occurring on both sides.
Could she have hurt both legs already, you wonder. No. I was wearing cropped tights and the elastic bottoms were squeezing ever so slightly over my shins. Not in a painful way. Just a gentle, butterfly-flaps-its-wings push or stretch against my skin. And I thought my legs were broken. Ugh.
One way I'm trying to combat future injury, however, is losing some of this post-crutch tub. I've been following the "Tracy Anderson Method" strengthening exercises for a few weeks. While that chick has all kinds of weird rumors swirling and some bad press, I have been supremely impressed by what this lady can do for your arms and butt in a relatively short time (if only I'd stuck with it this whole time, I'd be a killer babe right now!).
So, I've decided to be a little more dedicated and follow her 30-day plan to kick-start my lard-busting.
It's nothing gimmicky; it's just a plan of nutrition, strength and cardio to follow. And I know myself: I need a solidly outlined plan to follow. I also need to tell someone I'm following something so that I actually do it. Thanks for being that someone!
My objective: I'd like to get back to my healthy, preferred, pre-30th-birthday-pig weight of 120 pounds (yes, I never lost my 30th birthday pig-out week weight and then I hit the crutches... what a year to have my metabolism grind to a halt!).
I'm 133 today and will report each Monday how I've done with my goal of dropping one pound each week. Which means I should be down to my goal weight just in time for the holidays!
My complementary goal will be to learn how to eat like a human being and not like a famished boar. Here goes something!
Friday, September 24, 2010
OK. Go ahead. Call it a comeback.
Last Wednesday, I visited Dr. T for my it's-been-four-week-since-I've-been-off-crutches-what-now appointment. My leg, to him, felt remarkably well (I think he's just been surprised all along that I've listened to every word he's said and done everything I've been told) and, he regretted to tell me, I could start running again.
He regretted to tell me so much when he first said it, I thought he was telling me I couldn't run. Ever. He's probably just sick of seeing me and was sorry to give me a reason to be back too soon!
As in recovery, however, I will be in shape-up. So, here we go!
I was given very strict directions: every other day I could run 2:00, walk 2:00 in a gradual build-up to 32:00. Once I hit 32:00, I could start lengthening my run time, slimming my walk time. Here's how that's gone:
Day #1: 16:00 total, 4 x 2:00 at 9:35-11:10 pace with 2:00 walking recoveries. Can I tell you how incredible it felt to run for the first time in four months? I would have felt like I was flying if every step weren't hampering by the fear my leg would snap in half! Distance: 1.32 miles
Day #2: 20:00 total, 5 x 2:00 at 9:15-11:38 pace with 2:00 walks. Still loaded with paranoia, but let go, responsibly, just a touch. Distance: 1.60 miles
Day #3: 25:00 total, 6 x 2:00 at 8:46-10:51 pace with 2:00 walks (and a 3:00 walk to end). I haven't checked my pace even once while running. I'm just running by feeling and not pushing one bit. If anything even starts to hurt, alarms trigger so loudly I stop right away. But breaking 9:00 for the first time didn't ache a bit! Distance: 2.04 miles
Day #4: 30:20 total, 7 x 2:20 at 9:19-9:47 pace with 2:00 walk recoveries. OK: I didn't make it to 32:00 before ramping up. But the extra :20 was enough to make me run more focused and even, hence the more consistent paces. Distance: 2.55 miles
Day #5: 33:00 total, 8 x 2:30 at 8:01-9:00 pace with 1:40 walk recoveries. Not a bad experiment. Again, not checking pace while running. But after a couple weeks' worth of Tracy Anderson strengthening, I was feeling, well, strong. While I didn't push the intensity, I did slug either. Did I slap my hand for running 8:00 pace? Sure. Did it feel great? Absolutely. But I'm trying not to do it again soon. Distance: 3.06 miles
Day #6: 37:20 total, 8 x 2:40 at 8:10-9:38 pace with 2:00 walk breaks. I returned to the 2:00 walks because too short recoveries, it seemed, didn't really work as recoveries, per se. Just momentary slow-downs for me to run faster the next rep. And I'm not there yet. It's funny, though, how 2:00 now seems to last an eternity, but when I was doing 400M sprints, it was a blink. Distance: 3.31 miles
And that was this morning. Today was the first time since May I was able to drag my mopey butt out of bed pre-work and run as the sun was rising. I'm feeling a little sad about missing the whole summer, about not running Akron tomorrow, about spending most of year #30 momentarily disabled.
On the plus side, I can do one thing: sing Radiohead's classic "You do it to yourself" and know that in the future I can stop myself from feeling this way. By not breaking my own bones training in stupid ways.
And it will be an ongoing challenge: I'm planning on racing the Pigskin Classic 5K as my first race (it's Ohio State-UM weekend some time in November), followed by the GP family cup at the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving.
The true comeback, however, will be realized in May: the Cleveland Half. Not only is it one of my favorite races, Neil has agreed to train for and run it with me. Granted, the way he's been running, he'll hand me my butt at the finish line. But I'm looking forward to responsibly training for that not to happen.
Challenge: accepted.
He regretted to tell me so much when he first said it, I thought he was telling me I couldn't run. Ever. He's probably just sick of seeing me and was sorry to give me a reason to be back too soon!
As in recovery, however, I will be in shape-up. So, here we go!
I was given very strict directions: every other day I could run 2:00, walk 2:00 in a gradual build-up to 32:00. Once I hit 32:00, I could start lengthening my run time, slimming my walk time. Here's how that's gone:
Day #1: 16:00 total, 4 x 2:00 at 9:35-11:10 pace with 2:00 walking recoveries. Can I tell you how incredible it felt to run for the first time in four months? I would have felt like I was flying if every step weren't hampering by the fear my leg would snap in half! Distance: 1.32 miles
Day #2: 20:00 total, 5 x 2:00 at 9:15-11:38 pace with 2:00 walks. Still loaded with paranoia, but let go, responsibly, just a touch. Distance: 1.60 miles
Day #3: 25:00 total, 6 x 2:00 at 8:46-10:51 pace with 2:00 walks (and a 3:00 walk to end). I haven't checked my pace even once while running. I'm just running by feeling and not pushing one bit. If anything even starts to hurt, alarms trigger so loudly I stop right away. But breaking 9:00 for the first time didn't ache a bit! Distance: 2.04 miles
Day #4: 30:20 total, 7 x 2:20 at 9:19-9:47 pace with 2:00 walk recoveries. OK: I didn't make it to 32:00 before ramping up. But the extra :20 was enough to make me run more focused and even, hence the more consistent paces. Distance: 2.55 miles
Day #5: 33:00 total, 8 x 2:30 at 8:01-9:00 pace with 1:40 walk recoveries. Not a bad experiment. Again, not checking pace while running. But after a couple weeks' worth of Tracy Anderson strengthening, I was feeling, well, strong. While I didn't push the intensity, I did slug either. Did I slap my hand for running 8:00 pace? Sure. Did it feel great? Absolutely. But I'm trying not to do it again soon. Distance: 3.06 miles
Day #6: 37:20 total, 8 x 2:40 at 8:10-9:38 pace with 2:00 walk breaks. I returned to the 2:00 walks because too short recoveries, it seemed, didn't really work as recoveries, per se. Just momentary slow-downs for me to run faster the next rep. And I'm not there yet. It's funny, though, how 2:00 now seems to last an eternity, but when I was doing 400M sprints, it was a blink. Distance: 3.31 miles
And that was this morning. Today was the first time since May I was able to drag my mopey butt out of bed pre-work and run as the sun was rising. I'm feeling a little sad about missing the whole summer, about not running Akron tomorrow, about spending most of year #30 momentarily disabled.
On the plus side, I can do one thing: sing Radiohead's classic "You do it to yourself" and know that in the future I can stop myself from feeling this way. By not breaking my own bones training in stupid ways.
And it will be an ongoing challenge: I'm planning on racing the Pigskin Classic 5K as my first race (it's Ohio State-UM weekend some time in November), followed by the GP family cup at the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving.
The true comeback, however, will be realized in May: the Cleveland Half. Not only is it one of my favorite races, Neil has agreed to train for and run it with me. Granted, the way he's been running, he'll hand me my butt at the finish line. But I'm looking forward to responsibly training for that not to happen.
Challenge: accepted.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
It's kind of like Christmas Eve...
...except I'm hoping that by this time Wednesday I'm not Tiny Tim.
I'm looking forward to being a normal human being again—even if that means I can't run a while longer.
It'll be nice to walk on two feet again. To not draw attention to myself whenever I enter a room. To be able to sneak up on people again.
But I really don't know what to expect. Is six weeks enough for these fractures to heal? I guess I'll just prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Even if imagining another couple days on crutches makes my stomach turn. I'll try to stop listening longingly to Neo on the treadmill too.
No visions of sugar plums tonight. Maybe I can still hope for a Thanksgiving race.
I'm looking forward to being a normal human being again—even if that means I can't run a while longer.
It'll be nice to walk on two feet again. To not draw attention to myself whenever I enter a room. To be able to sneak up on people again.
But I really don't know what to expect. Is six weeks enough for these fractures to heal? I guess I'll just prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Even if imagining another couple days on crutches makes my stomach turn. I'll try to stop listening longingly to Neo on the treadmill too.
No visions of sugar plums tonight. Maybe I can still hope for a Thanksgiving race.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Seriously: for whom do they make these things anyway?
I admit it: I went a little crutch-crazy the first week I was on the sticks. But it just took one mention of bone spurs by my mom to slow me down.
I've stuck mostly to mat workouts and pretty easy going (at least I'll have plenty of weight to lose when all this healing is over... oh, wait, that's not a good thing?) the past few weeks. With respect to exercise, that is. I've still had plenty of places to crutch at work — the bleepin' bathroom is a few minutes away, my bleepin' car always ends up on the opposite site of the lot and bleepin' Starbucks, well, it's not far at all — and my social/normal life hasn't taken a backseat to fractured legs. I crutched the Tremont artwalk a couple days into crutchville and cheered Neil wildly at Joseph Monastra.
It's not high mileage (it's not meant to be), but it certainly isn't using these things as an excuse to be lazy.
Which me to wonder: what kind of sloths use crutches these days? Because mine look like this:
Yep, that's the metal bar tearing through the grip. It was really fun when it finally broke through the rubber — I was crutching through a tiled hallway to PechaKucha Night and the darned thing slid right across the floor, sending me flying. It took me a few days to remember that my mom had left some spare crutches in my basement. So, a few perilous moments followed.
Like wiggling into the crawl space to get the crutches (yick!). You can imagine my surprise, though, when I found the spare pair. The arm and hand grips were worn to tears, but the bottoms looked nothing mine:
Perhaps my definition of rest is a little different than the average crutchist. Anymore rest here and I might suffer cardiac arrest. From sheer boredom and blubber.
So, I grabbed a new grip and have been crutching smoothly since. And my skillz as a crutchist are only moving up: not only have I mastered the water-bottle carry and the hot-coffee crutch, I can push a grocery cart while crutching too. It's all about rhythm. What I'm most proud of, however, is that I've experienced no residual pain from my new way to "walk." No crutch chafing. No torquing, turning or burning on the opposite leg. No crutches getting anywhere near my armpits whatsoever.
Did I mention I can crutch sideways, backward and through small spaces? Yes, I take my victories wherever I can get them. The downside is at least once a week it totally wears me out. Particularly the work environment. I can't elevate my leg and the bathroom jaunt is a stretch. But it's reassuring that I can keep doing it all.
Even if these crutches weren't made for people like me anyway.
I've stuck mostly to mat workouts and pretty easy going (at least I'll have plenty of weight to lose when all this healing is over... oh, wait, that's not a good thing?) the past few weeks. With respect to exercise, that is. I've still had plenty of places to crutch at work — the bleepin' bathroom is a few minutes away, my bleepin' car always ends up on the opposite site of the lot and bleepin' Starbucks, well, it's not far at all — and my social/normal life hasn't taken a backseat to fractured legs. I crutched the Tremont artwalk a couple days into crutchville and cheered Neil wildly at Joseph Monastra.
It's not high mileage (it's not meant to be), but it certainly isn't using these things as an excuse to be lazy.
Which me to wonder: what kind of sloths use crutches these days? Because mine look like this:
Yep, that's the metal bar tearing through the grip. It was really fun when it finally broke through the rubber — I was crutching through a tiled hallway to PechaKucha Night and the darned thing slid right across the floor, sending me flying. It took me a few days to remember that my mom had left some spare crutches in my basement. So, a few perilous moments followed.
Like wiggling into the crawl space to get the crutches (yick!). You can imagine my surprise, though, when I found the spare pair. The arm and hand grips were worn to tears, but the bottoms looked nothing mine:
Perhaps my definition of rest is a little different than the average crutchist. Anymore rest here and I might suffer cardiac arrest. From sheer boredom and blubber.
So, I grabbed a new grip and have been crutching smoothly since. And my skillz as a crutchist are only moving up: not only have I mastered the water-bottle carry and the hot-coffee crutch, I can push a grocery cart while crutching too. It's all about rhythm. What I'm most proud of, however, is that I've experienced no residual pain from my new way to "walk." No crutch chafing. No torquing, turning or burning on the opposite leg. No crutches getting anywhere near my armpits whatsoever.
Did I mention I can crutch sideways, backward and through small spaces? Yes, I take my victories wherever I can get them. The downside is at least once a week it totally wears me out. Particularly the work environment. I can't elevate my leg and the bathroom jaunt is a stretch. But it's reassuring that I can keep doing it all.
Even if these crutches weren't made for people like me anyway.
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